Galinda of the Upper - wait, Wonderland?
by eminentcheong
Summary: It isn't everyday Galinda Upland wakes up to find her roommate wearing pink, her boyfriend studying, her headmistress nice or her stalker finding another target. Story idea belongs to Wickedly Hope Pancake. *first chapter written by Muffinsweep11*
1. Quintessential

** A/N: This plot is -**

**1. By _Wickedly Hope Pancake_ and from her bunny adoption centre.**

**2. Being written by _NellytheActress_ and (previously) _Muffinsweep11_**

**How and why I'm writing this is a great story that deserves to be told some other time. This first chapter was written by Muffinsweep11, but I made some minute changes to incorporate my style into the bunny. Technically, she'll still be a major part of this since I shall pester her to help me with the story once in a while. I'm very unsure of how this tale is going to unfold, but as for now... enjoy! **

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"Bick, how long have you been standing there?"

"It's Boq," the munchkin corrected once more. "And I've been standing here waiting for about... an hour?"

"Waiting for what?" asked Galinda curiously. "The cows to come home?"

"For you to put on your make-up, Miss Galinda," replied Boq with a nervous grin on his face. "So that I can escort you to Economics."

Galinda plastered a sweet smile on her face. This was no unusual happening; she'd find Boq waiting outside her dormitory every morning - with only one exception when he had food poisoning after Fiyero had dared him ten bucks to swallow a chunk of moldy cheese that had been lying in the courtyard for a week (he'd landed himself extra lunch money he could not use). Sometimes, Boq's obsession over her was a evident thorn in her side.

"Why, Biq, that is very sweet of you, but I believe Miss Nessarose would've had more use of your ushering," she replied. Then she gave a small over-practiced gasp as she added, "You haven't forgotten about the poor girl, have you? Letting her push herself down those crowded hallways, carrying a burden of books in her lap?"

Boq shifted uncomfortably. "I-I suppose so..." He took a sudden interest in his shoes. "I guess... I guess I'd better get going then."

With a sigh, Boq pushed back the shock of untidy hair that kept falling into his eyes because he couldn't afford a haircut. Then he scurried down the hallway. Galinda watched his retreating back, wondering if she had indeed done some good. Nessarose genuinely liked Boq, she could see that, so wasn't it killing two birds with one stone? She wouldn't have him tailing her everywhere 24/7, and Boq and Nessarose would be together.

But she knew Boq wasn't truly happy.

Galinda shrugged. Practical choices had to be made sometimes, like how she'd just skipped Economics by using the time to do better things.

Like putting on make-up.

* * *

When Fiyero emerged from the headmistress's office with a long face, Galinda knew exactly what was coming.

"Morrible - "

"Assigned you detention for sleeping in class again and you can't attend tonight's date because you have to peel gum off desk bottoms," finished Galinda.

Fiyero pecked her on the nose. "You know me so well."

"I know I do," said Galinda flirtatiously. "And I do hate that carp; she's way too tight. But really, Fifi, this is the tenth time you've landed in detention." She huffed in frustration. It was indeed getting on her nerves; they kept on cancelling their dates because of Fiyero's misdeeds. They wouldn't be able to hold it the following few days after because Fiyero would've eaten the gum and landed himself in the infirmary with gastric flu.

"I'm sorry, Linny," said Fiyero. "I knew I should've listened to Avaric when he told me to put 'narcolepsy' as one of my afflictions and accepted his offer to forge a doctor's letter for me."

"What's narcolepsy?" asked Galinda.

"I don't know," replied Fiyero, shrugging. He flashed her one of his charming smiles. "But Avaric tells me I could've used it as an excuse for my sleeping in class."

The grin transformed Fiyero's face, turning him back into the happy young boy he'd been before dancing through life had turned _his_ life upside down two years ago. For a moment, his cerulean eyes sparkled with merry, mischievous intelligence—but then the grin faded, replaced by the plastic expression he had adopted.

"Well, why didn't you?" demanded Galinda.

"Well, the thing is, according to my student's profile, I suffer from ADHD, narcissism, OCD, dementia and a whole bunch of other psychiatric problems I've never even heard of," Fiyero explained. "One more and they'd think I probably need a straightjacket."

"I say OCD means Ominous Cosmetic Disaster," suggested Galinda.

Fiyero shrugged again. "Maybe," he said. He slipped an arm around Galinda's waist. "C'mon, let's go dance through life."

"Your pants are way too tight," muttered Galinda.

* * *

"Galinda! For the last time, give me back my clothes!"

"Not a chance, Elphie, now that I'm free, I'm gonna completely redesign your closet – that includes the lingerie, by the way."

Elphaba's eyes nearly popped out of her head, too distracted to continue scrubbing Morrible's huge caldron in which Galinda had boiled herbs in during Sorcery the day before. There were stubborn black scorch marks all along the bottom, and if Elphaba didn't manage to get them out, Morrible would be sure to have Galinda's head. It was hard to get anything clean when the only thing she was given to scrub the pot with was the ash from the communal coal fire, which left Elphaba's fingers contrastingly red and raw. The one time she had asked for cleaning spells, it had earned her a curse from the stingy old bat.

"You want me to wear pink bras too?"

"Yes," replied Galinda matter-of-factly, as she sashayed down the hall with another bundle of Elphaba's black dresses. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Elphaba pursed her lips, before muttering a simple spell, and the clothes in Galinda's arms disappeared. The blonde staggered, unbalanced from the lack of burden, and she whirled around, slightly confused. "Where did they go?"

"Back into my closet," Elphaba turned on her heel and headed back to the dormitory. "Where they belong."

Galinda stomped her foot indignantly. "That's not fair! You've got magic!"

"Nothing in this world is fair, Galinda," called back Elphaba, "I'm a brilliant example of that." She waved a green hand over her shoulder. "Now let's get back so we can study, shall we?"

"But – "

"The only butt I want to see is yours, following me back to the dormitory," said Elphaba flatly. "We have a history test tomorrow, Galinda."

The corners of Galinda's lips slid down her face, but followed her green roommate nonetheless. "But I hate history! Why do you even want to study it?" she whined. "I don't get why people have to harp on the past so much. It's illogical."

"There's no logic in this world, Galinda, you'll see that soon enough."


	2. The All New Elphaba

**A/N: So it has been a while. It's summer break over here! Thus I'm currently seated stereotypically at the nearest Starbucks tapping out this chapter, while all my friends are off overseas. One's even in New York at the moment, her hotel "five meters away from If/Then", having "just went by the Gershwin Theatre". :( Here is a snippet of what I typed out... Hope it does Muffinsweep11 justice. (I highly doubt it will) Please be kind, I am supercalifrangelistically nervous about uploading this *bites lip nervously***

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Butterflies and cupcakes and Fiyero.

It was the perfect combination for a perfect picnic. The cupcakes appeared rich and pink and sweet and Galinda-esque in her dream-like state while his hair was gelled and combed neatly to the side in a smooth, shiny sweep, young and fresh. Galinda licked her lips in eager anticipation of those perfect fluffy cupcakes (and Fiyero) when a splitting pain in her forehead roused her out of her perfect picnic and finger food dreams. _Dreams almost as perfect as she was._

Galinda grimaced, massaging her throbbing temples. Outside, the sky was relatively dark, the sun having yet to rise above the roughed outline of the Madeleines in the distance. A strong sense of foreboding shrouded the unusually quiet room. How was she up so early? Drowsy with sleep, she slumped back into her bed, pulling the covers over her head with a groan... then something struck her. Her covers were black. Like, black. Not a metaphor or a hyperbole or any of that figurative junk Elphaba was rattling on about just yesterday. Black. That woke her up for real. She jolted up right in bed, shrieking her head off with shrill volume that could have woken the dead, thus piercing the still silence of the quiet morning.

"ELPHIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

A frustrated groan resounded from the bathroom. "Ozcakes, Linny! You just made me ruin my eyeliner!"

Galinda cocked her head to the side in outright confusion. Eyeliner? Linny? _Ozcakes_? Those words had never existed in Elphaba's dictionary before. Well, not until two seconds ago, at least. Heaving herself out of her absurdly pigmented bed, she bounded labouriously into the bathroom in an attempt to investigate the suspicious ambience.

"Linny?" Elphaba eyed the blonde minx warily, raising a dark eyebrow, the stray hairs around it plucked to perfection.

Galinda's eyes were rounder than saucepans as she gazed uncontrollably, startled beyond relief, at the contemptible act that was taking place before her eyes. Her hand flew to her mouth to prevent a scream, but she screamed anyway, typically characteristic of herself. A sense of urgency and awful apprehension gripped her as she beheld the sight of her best friend holding a stick of kohl, bent down in front of the mirror with an intense look of concentration plastered on her face. She knew Elphaba was an overachiever, but she hadn't expected her to take those popular wannabe lessons all that seriously.

Lavishly, Elphaba rimmed her lash line with the black product in an attempt to remedy the unintentional flick of ebony drawn a minuscule too long. Clad in a floral-patterned fuchsia bathrobe, she looked a real sight. _A good sight,_ corrected Galinda. _Pink actually went good with green!_

"What in Lurline's good name are you doing, Elphaba Melena Thropp–" Galinda spluttered as she gesticulated wildly with her hands, looking terribly unladylike.

This resulted in her choking mid-sentence on her own spit, causing Elphaba to glare at her. A wave of relief flooded Galinda's soul for a moment as she recognized that signature death stare as an endearing trait of her roommate.

"Oh, great. I finally concede and wake up hours earlier than you so we won't have to fight for the bathroom. And you come _rolling_ in on me, messing up my eyeliner, shouting in my face. Not even an apology. Were you raised in a barn? Ozdammit, there's no more time to rectify this. See, now I'll have to do a cat eye. Ugh, cat eyes were so last season. Now please, Linny dearest, would you get out for a clock-tick for me to finish up?" Elphaba squeezed the monologue into a strangled falsetto.

When Galinda refused to budge, Elphaba furrowed her brows and stomped her feet irately like a petulant child. Galinda was tickled by the scene, but her blood froze as a look of severe hostility shrouded Elphaba's face. As she shot an accusing stare at Galinda, she spat out a menacing threat and clenched her fists tightly.

"I said, get out!" Elphaba tossed her shiny, crimped locks with a swift flick and returned to the looking glass, not before slamming the door in Galinda's face.

Galinda blinked in immense bewilderment at the thrilling drama that had unfolded before her very eyes. Gazing fearfully at the Quoxwood door still shaking from all the excitement, Galinda stood dumbly rooted to the ground as she mulled over the possible reasons for Elphaba's questionable behavior. Having always been known for her astute judgment and impeccable sense of justice, Galinda was certain that the girl currently hogging the toilet was a horrid Elphaba-imposter. That, or the world was coming to an end. It was a troubling dilemma, indeed.

Discarding her fluffy bunny slippers for more sensible suede boots, she made her way out of the dormitory. A myriad of feelings flashed through her mind. Who was this person, and what had she done with her roommate? Galinda knew not. She needed answers, and if Elphaba couldn't make any sense, she needed to find someone who did.

Arriving at the corridor of Crage Hall, Galinda suddenly peered out of the windows overlooking the herb gardens. The rain had started during her squabble with Elphaba, some time between dawn and sunrise. This was not the usual diffident Shiz drizzle, but a drenching deluge that cascaded out of the sky, rat-tatted against curtained windows and gathered in splashy pools in the basement wells. The contrastingly warm rays of the morning sun filtered through the clouds, casting a comforting glow on the multitude of flora about the grounds, covered with an unending sheen of raindrops.

The picturesque sight never failed to fill her, fascinate her with a sense of majesty and wonder and the tense muscles on her face relaxed for a bit - that is, until she realised the absence of Boq. Where was he, anyway? It wasn't like him to be tardy and her bags were waiting to be picked up. Maybe the precipitation had finally gotten to his miniscule Munchkin mind.


	3. Last Friday Night

**A/N: Hej! I think I'm experiencing an prolonged spell of inspiration. Sort of. Either that or I'm bored to tears. ****(By the way, I can't grant you cookies. Sorry about that. Unlike everyone else in this community, I suck at baking, virtual or not. Ergo, I can only promise to update faster.) ****Thank you for the exceedingly gracious reviews, thou hast motivatedeth me to write. For one day more that is (: Well, I bring to you Sad Galinda. Very Sad Galinda.**

**Broadwaygirl21: You fortuneteller, you. Time for a regime change, eh? (;**

**Muffinsweep11: BOO YOU. You promised to update.**

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Minutes later, the rain was still spraying across the slick campus pavements in fierce gusts. Galinda shivered as she carried a heavy load of cosmetic palettes. It was cold today, colder than she ever remembered it being in the city of Gilikin, and all she had on was her threadbare tulle dress. Standing on a street corner at the nastier end of Crage, desperate for Boq, Galinda felt as if she had been hosed down like a horse. An animal (with a small 'a') tang rose from her ruined shoes. Wet crawled like spiders from her hairline. Only a blaze of indignation kept her warm.

_I will never forgive Bick, _she vowed. _Never will I be as smug, as patronising, as boring— _she leapt away from the curb as a carriage shot an arc of dirty puddle-water at her knees. Cold water trickled down her tights and seeped into her shoes. Woe be her, she hated Mondays.

"How dare you!" she cried in anguish at the horseman, when she realized it was none other than the boy in question. Oh, Bick -_Boq_, the suddenly reformed _darling_, coming to redeem himself with a stylishly rented ride to Cosmetology! Her cronies would keel over in envy. Perhaps she would forgive him, after all, out of the goodness of her heart.

Galinda strutted coyly over to the dismounting boy, only to see him staring adoringly at a wheelchair-bound girl, who had just been wheeled out of Crage Hall by the fish-like headmistress. Only to see him extend a gentlemanly hand to that wheelchair-bound girl. Only to see him carry her into the carriage, bridal-style. Nessarose Thropp. The tragically pathetic girl. What day was it today, Karma day? The carriage sped off into the distance, toward the History building, leaving Galinda stranded on the sidewalk, left with no choice but to walk in the rain.

_Vanity, thy name is woman. Nessa, thy name is mud. Galinda, thy brain is mush._

If Galinda were in a perkier mood, she would have applauded herself for being so philosophical. But she was not, thus beginning her long, umbrella-less walk with a deeply set scowl on her face. With each step she took, the wetter she and her mood became. A night ago, she never thought she'd ever be so glad to see a lecture hall. Sure enough, a building was miraculously standing erect about twenty yards away. Splashing up the flight of stairs, she wrested the open door from the hand of the previous occupant.

"Blimey, Miss Upland, been swimming?"

Galinda wiped the water from her eyelashes and eyebrows, wrung out her hair and leaned back stickily against a seat in front, next to the window. Pasted on the window was a poster for a study group. "Lonely?" it asked in giant letters. She closed her eyes.

Lonely was the precise word to describe the days that followed. Though Elphaba had waved off Galinda's behaviour upon her arrival as muddlehead-ness on her part, Elphaba had barely any time to spare for her anyway. Turns out, green skin was exceedingly popular with the guys in this alternative reality. More so popular than herself_,_ Galinda admitted bitterly. Every night, a different suitor would arrive at the doorstep of the shared room, bouquet of poppies in hand. It was a routine now: Elphaba would insist that Galinda join them, and Galinda would pridefully decline. Elphaba would then apologetically offer to bring Galinda out "some other time" and then poof! She was out the door, only returning in the wee hours of the morning. Pfannee, Milla, Shen Shen, were off in the library _studying_. Boq and Nessarose? Hopeless. As for Fiyero, she hadn't seen him all week since she entered this bizarre, hateful realm. She had tried asking around for him, but no one really bothered to tell her much. Surprisingly, Galinda adjusted to this new way of life very quickly.

The days crawled by at a painful rate but finally, it was the end of the school week. Inside the dormitory, she peeled off her clothes, and dumped them in the bath, toweled her hair, then wrapped herself up in a hideous dressing gown sent by some distant relative. She hugged it tight around her, and bent to check herself out in the mirror, wondering if she looked like a tragic Lurlineist heroine, too passionate and sensitive for this world. She did not. Hair with less bounce than usual, a potentially haughty Uplandish nose completely undermined by the wide, curvy mouth so often misinterpreted as an invitation to pounce: same old Galinda. The product did not match the image. She extinguished the bathroom light with a snap.

It wasn't even midnight. The weekend stretched long and empty before her. She roamed the room, looking for diversion. She ran her fingertips along the spines of her chick flicks, opened the fridge and contemplated an individual sticky toffee pudding, shut the door again, rattled the keys of her laptop. She paused. So _this_ was what Elphaba, parallel-universe Elphaba, felt like every other night. Cheers to her first Friday alone.

When the phone rang, she could have kissed it.

"Hello?" she said, almost too excitedly, into the receiver.

"It's Boq." He laughed easily, a self-satisfied, drunken chuckle. "So what are you doing this weekend, you wild unattached cream puff? Fancy a couple of drinks at the Ozdust? No strings."

Galinda stared incredulously at the cordless phone. Did other girls really say yes to invitations like this? For a moment she forgot she was a tough, modern Upland female and felt like bursting into tears. Instead, she cleared her throat after thinking of a comeback.

"I don't think so."

"Oh, come on, have some fun for a change." And as an afterthought, added, "Miss Nessarose said you weren't seeing anyone."

"Then _Miss Nessarose _is sadly misinformed," she answered coolly, sounding hoity-toity even to her own ears. "I have plenty of fun, as it happens."

"Your loss."

"Loss?" Galinda flipped the back of her curls aggressively, refusing to let this misogynist have the last word. "Some of us have parties to go to, _Bick_."

With that she hung up, before he could retort that he knew better. Galinda winced at her pathetic line. Heck, she hadn't been to a party in days.

Before she allowed herself to drift off to Wonderland, she resolved to hold Elphaba to her word and be brought out over a day of well-deserved shopping. She refused to succumb to her fate of plausibly becoming one of those briskly cheerful women who ate microwaved pudding for one at Lurlinemas and had to take a week's compassionate leave when their cat died.

She hoped that Popsical's credit cards were still existent here. An Upland never gave up, after all.


End file.
